Translator: AnubisTL
"The last one," Garos muttered, removing the serpent's head. The wild monster lords of the southwest have been completely eradicated. The final piece of the puzzle is now in place.
With this, the Ironforged Tribe had fully seized control of the southwest. Every inch of this land now belonged to the Ironforged Tribe, to Garos.
I've only managed to tame the white tiger among the wild monster lords.
The others are either inherently chaotic and evil, like the Chimera, with no inclination to pledge allegiance, or cold-blooded and relentlessly aggressive, like this giant serpent, fighting to the death without retreat.
Garos inwardly lamented the missed opportunity.
He hoisted the black scale giant python's carcass and flew toward Dragon Valley.
If he couldn't tame it, he might as well nourish himself. Such high-grade meat wasn't something Garos could enjoy every day.
Soon after, night fell.
Campfires blazed in Dragon Valley as the ogre chef, skilled in meat preparation, meticulously roasted the snake meat. He expertly sprinkled various spices, the sizzling fat crackling over the flames, its savory aroma mingling with the spices to fill the valley.
Roasted snake meat, snake meat stew, snake meat sashimi.
Three dishes from a single serpent.
Garos savored the feast while observing the combat ahead.
The campfire illuminated the clearing, where the lizardfolk Uros and the kobold Doug paced slowly, cautiously sizing each other up.
The lizardfolk resembled a giant lizard standing upright.
The kobold, despite its name, bore little resemblance to canines. Its appearance was more akin to a dragonborn, lacking any dog-like features. They were called kobolds because of their excessive devotion to dragonkind and the generally weaker stature of most individuals.
After the death of Hyenaman Hodge, the Steel Will Warband was left without a leader.
Garos wasn't familiar with the new generation of monsters and had no particular favorites. He decided to hold a martial tournament to select the next leader.
Before him stood the lizardfolk and the kobold.
They had survived rigorous trials, fought their way through countless opponents, and emerged as the final candidates—the strongest of their respective tribes' new generation.
Garos tore off a piece of roasted snake meat, the grease dripping down his jaw as he watched the two bosses sizing each other up with keen interest.
"Begin," the red-iron dragon's voice boomed, deep and authoritative.
The taller lizardfolk, Uros, struck first. With a flick of his tail, he charged forward, swinging his battleaxe at Doug. The force of the swing sent the campfire flames flickering wildly.
Instead of meeting the attack head-on, the kobold ducked low and rolled away, his body vanishing into the darkness as he merged with the night.
Boom!
The ground trembled violently as the giant axe slammed into the earth, cleaving a deep trench that stretched over ten meters, a testament to the strike's devastating power.
At the same moment...
Seizing a momentary lull in the lizardfolk's assault, Doug materialized silently beside the lizardfolk. His attack was swift and subtle, his dagger rising in a sinister upward arc, aimed precisely between the lizardfolk's legs.
Uros's eyelid twitched.
He leaped backward to evade the strike, his thick tail slamming against the ground to propel him forward with renewed speed toward the kobold.
Just then, the kobold suddenly drew a handful of sand from his belt and flung it into Uros's face.
The lizardfolk instinctively closed his eyes, his movements faltering momentarily.
Doug seized the opportunity. A pair of bat-like wings erupted from his back, granting him a sudden burst of speed, moving with ghostly swiftness. His dagger darted toward the lizardfolk's throat, but at the last instant, he shifted his aim, the blade's tip gently pressing against Uros's carotid artery.
"You've lost," Doug's voice was sharp yet resolute.
Uros opened his eyes, staring in disbelief at the dagger pressed against his neck.
His heavy breathing gradually calmed, and he slowly lowered his battle axe.
"Well done, little one," the lizardfolk rumbled.
The kobold Doug wagged his tail, turning to gaze at the red-iron dragon.
Firelight danced across the dragon's scales, casting flickering shadows that accentuated his imposing majesty.
"Uros possesses superior raw power," the red-iron dragon observed. "But Doug fights with his mind, securing an impeccable victory."
The overall capabilities of the lizardfolk and kobolds were roughly equal.
However, in combat, the lizardfolk relied solely on relentless aggression, lacking strategic thinking. In contrast, Doug, a kobold who had mastered the essence of the shadow assassin, fought with his intellect, controlling the rhythm of battle and delivering the decisive blow at the perfect moment.
The strengths and weaknesses of each side were readily apparent.
"Doug, the position of Warband Leader of the Steel Will is now yours. Prove yourself worthy."
The kobold sheathed his dagger and immediately prostrated himself on the ground. "My lord, I am willing to spill my blood and fight to the death for you."
The campfire crackled, sending sparks soaring into the night sky.
The silhouette of Iron Dragon Solgorn appeared above Dragon Valley. He circled briefly, folded his wings, and descended to land before the red-iron dragon.
"Garos, my dear brother, I have made a significant discovery."
Unable to contain his excitement, he blurted out, "What is it?" Garos asked.
Iron Dragon Solgorn lowered his voice and said slowly, "There's a high probability of a black oilfield within the Gold Tooth Tribe's territory."
Garos froze momentarily.
In the next instant, his breathing turned heavy, his pupils constricted to thin slits, and sparks shot from his nostrils.
"Are you certain?!"
Any deposit worthy of being called a black oilfield would contain at least ten thousand tons of black oil—enough for Garos to swim in it. This was an extremely valuable strategic resource.
"Eighty-nine percent certainty," Iron Dragon Solgorn said with a firm nod.
Black oilfield, black oilfield... Garos's eyes gleamed with intense desire, tinged with a dangerous glint.
"Solgorn, tell me the exact details of your discovery," the red-iron dragon said, taking a deep breath.
A strategic resource like a black oilfield demanded decisive action. Once its existence was confirmed and capture seemed possible, they had to strike with full force. There was no room for hesitation!
(End of the Chapter)
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